


Puzzle Time

by Lakeylou



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakeylou/pseuds/Lakeylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red wants to ask Lizzie if she is planning on going away with Tom. He invites her over, but struggles to ask the question. Lizzington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Time

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Blacklist, nor do i own the characters. Thank you for the kudos and comments on my other stories. :)

When Dembe told him, Raymond’s immediate thought was finally. Finally. It was about time Tom Keen packed up his things and got the hell away of Elizabeth. Then, Dembe said something else, something Raymond had not considered.

“He asked Elizabeth to go with him.”

Red would have liked to laugh at this. A loud and boisterous laugh that would rumble in his chest and cause Dembe to smile back at him. Because the idea of Lizzie going with Tom was baffling. It did, however, dawn on him, as he sat on the left squab of the brown leather sofa, that perhaps Lizzie would. As he shared the last of his scotch with Dembe, Raymond had a horrible thought.

Lizzie might just take Tom up on his offer.

It made him bitter. That Tom somehow believed he deserved to whisk Elizabeth away, and start a new, normal life with her. Even Red wasn't that callous. That was something men like him dreamed about, had sleepless nights about, but never, under any circumstances, acted upon. He swallowed back the last of the liquid in the glass, Tom Keen tainting the taste. He turned to watch Dembe, who sat at the small dining table, inspect a puzzle piece then place it in a small pile of similar pieces. Red would take a look at the puzzle later, once Dembe was asleep, and Red’s mind was tired enough to relax and focus on something so enjoyable.

“I don’t know what Elizabeth’s answer was.”

Dembe was unfortunately no help to Raymond’s growing concerns. Even more concerning, was that Red knew Lizzie had spent a fair amount of time with Tom recently, making him unsure of how much they had patched up their relationship. So, there was only one plausible thing for him to do. He searched both pant pockets for a phone to use but came up short. He started to ask Dembe, only to look up and find his body guard waving one in front of him.

“I might have an early night.”

“It’s barely past seven, Dembe.”

“It seems you have something important to do.”

The dig was not well received, but Raymond knew the man was right. Like so many times before, he should listen to Dembe.

 

When she arrived, Red still hadn't moved from his seat. The drapes were now pulled and hiding the view of the city. He continued to stare in the direction though, wondering why on earth he had Dembe pull them in the first place. Lizzie let herself in, removed her coat, and sat on the other end of the sofa. She made it very clear she didn't appreciate the Saturday night call by letting out a small huff of annoyance.

“Something important?” She asked.

“You know, I use to like these drapes,” Red murmured, scrutinizing the fabric he was gazing at. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Why? What’s wrong with them?”

Red looked away from them, and turned to greet the woman watching him. He gave her a brief nod, then stood from the sofa, kicking his feet out to let his pants straighten around his knees. He could feel Lizzie’s eyes on him as he walked over to the hidden windows. Her piercing, 'I can profile you' gaze was well intact. He pulled the drapes back open, rubbing the material between his thumb and forefinger. There was just something about the thickness. 

But really, there wasn't.

He knew very well that he was deflecting. And he did wonder if it was because he was afraid to hear Lizzie’s answer.

“Why did you call me over?”

Red stopped fiddling with the drapes and instead, sat down in the seat Dembe occupied earlier. It would be hard to focus on a puzzle while Lizzie was present. He needed peace, a calm, warm atmosphere for such a hobby. Lizzie was all these things and so much more. But right now, their relationship was far from smooth sailing. It was rocky and upsetting and could very well make him sea sick. So, no, Lizzie right now, was not soothing. But nevertheless, he picked up a puzzle piece.

“Tom is leaving,” He said casually. So casually in fact, it seemed as if Tom was a close friend of his.

“Is he?”

“But you already knew that.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

Sliding the piece of puzzle along the wooden table, Red smiled briefly. Dembe had made good progress. He had joined every outside piece, knowing that Red was much more interested in the interior of the puzzle. The pieces with no smooth sides. 

It had not even been ten minutes with Lizzie, when he caught her checking the watch on her wrist. She was already tired of his company. Or tired of his sidetracking. Probably both. He will admit he had not been the best host so far, but it gets to a point, when drink offers are constantly refused, that you stop asking altogether.

“Did you call me over to tell me anything important? Or to watch you do a puzzle?”

His lips twitched at that. She would find it even more boring if she were to come over closer and actually watch him do this puzzle. He had yet to place a piece.

“I've heard you've been meeting with Tom.” Red replied, shuffling his fingers through one of the small piles.

“Yes. If you don’t want to give me answers, he will.”

Red let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he turned towards her. “Tom knows nothing, Lizzie.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure I would.”

At his answer, Lizzie let out a long exaggerated sigh from across the room. He watched, with a small ache of warmth, as she fell to her side, and lay down on his sofa. Her head resting right where he likes to sit.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, looking at him sideways.

What’s wrong, was the right question indeed, Red thought. Images of Lizzie resting her head on his lap was wrong, and it was wrong on so many levels. Here he was, feeling sour about Tom for wanting the same thing. Red didn't deserve Lizzie anymore than Tom Keen did. And she knows it. Well, she doesn't quite know the full extent of his feelings towards her. But if she did--she most likely would not be here.

When he didn't reply, she sat up again, and this time stood from the sofa. As she walked over, he did worry for a split second that she might display a fit of anger and swipe her arm across the table. Lizzie did have a temper with him on occasion, and destroying his puzzle would be rather therapeutic for her. It would only make him wince. Luckily, for him and Dembe, she carefully took the seat next to him and stared down at the puzzle.

“I know what this about.” She said quietly, keeping her eyes on the pieces in front of her. “And instead of acting like a stubborn child you could just ask me.”

Red cleared his throat. Her and her profiling skills were admirable. “Ask what?”

“If I’m going with Tom.”

Red watched as she plucked a piece from the pile in front of him. He eyed the smooth skin on the back of her hand, inches from his resting elbow. He watched closely as she brought the piece close to her own face, then spun it. It was entrancing. Lizzie was... someone worth watching closely. She then lowered her hand and slotted the piece into the right position. It was fascinating. Impressive.

“You’re good at puzzles.”

“And you’re good at deflecting.”

“Well, we all have our talents.” 

“I'm not sure i would call yours a talent, Red. A bad habit maybe.” She smiled, picking up another piece and placing it correctly again. “I like puzzles.”

“I can see why.” Red replied, finding another piece and holding it out in front of her. “Would you like a drink?”

For a second, she hesitated, and there was just the tiniest flicker inside him. A light of hope. That she would stay and they would open a new bottle of alcohol. Of her choosing, of course. 

“No, thank you,” She replied, much to his disappointment. “I won’t be staying long.” She did however, take the piece from his fingers and he delighted in the small contact that was made between them. Nodding, Red looked back down to the puzzle, and finally placed a piece. Lizzie must think he was terrible at them, but it was only because she was here with him. His mind found it significantly hard to stay on track with her so close, when he only had one question on his mind.

“So, are you going to ask me?”

She didn't look at him when she spoke, and he knew that the conversation was heading the direction it should have when she first arrived. Lizzie was never afraid to get to the grit of things. Always wanted to know more, and more, and everything about him. It was both wonderful and terrifying. For now, he would not look at her either.

“Are you thinking of leaving with him?”

“I did think of it, yes.” She responded, still not looking, but taking another piece from his grip. A piece that he was having trouble placing. “Does that annoy you?”

“Yes.”

Breaking her own rule, Lizzie looked up, surprised and pleased with his quick reply. “You don’t want me to go?”

“Would that make any difference, Lizzie?”

“Yes.” She answered, fitting the piece and pushing her seat back. “As a matter of fact it would.”

He watched her stand, then straighten her jacket, and pull the hair tie lose from her pony tail. She walked back to the sofa where she picked up her bag. Her hair was messy now and had a kink from being tied all day. 

“I will not be leaving with Tom.” She said, brushing her fingers through her hair. “So, I’m guessing now that you've got your answer, I can go?”

She would never know how much relief had just flooded him. How, if he stood from his seat to see her out, he would not have the ability to make a single step. He did debate whether to tell her how good her decision was to hear, how it made him feel. But he didn't. Because it would only have her asking more questions. And if she stayed any longer, the puzzle would be completed before Dembe could place the last piece.

“Yes. Good night, Lizzie.” He replied.

She squinted back at him. "You're a bit of a puzzle, you know."

He was smiling now his concerns were at ease. Lizzie was staying. Not with him, but close to him.

He then placed a piece, and two more in quick succession.

"You did happen to say you like puzzles, sweetheart."


End file.
